Countdown
by Creenella
Summary: [Semi-AU in which every human has a counter on their wrist that counts down the time left until you meet your soulmate] Soul's POV, takes place during the time Maka and Soul first met and decided to be partners. (hints of SoMa)


**AN:** **Alright, after a huge wave of inspiration and motivation had hit me hard in the face like Marie Mjolnir in hammer form because I was reading a certain post on tumblr, I just had to write this out. (It discussed the Idea of what would be if you had a counter on your wrist that counts down the time until you meet your soulmate, therefore this semi-AU)**

 **I just wrote away without any planning and sort of drifted off midway into rather depressive and nearly suicidal thoughts, which I'm really sorry for. If that's triggering for any of you I'd recommend to not read this story :/  
Anyways, I hope that I didn't make too many mistakes and that you enjoy reading this oneshot!**

Again he glanced at his wrist, just to once more see the numbers changing, counting down in such an unbearable speed, he was wondering if seconds were really only that short. The knot that had built in his stomach out of nervosity grew with every speedy second flying by. He had ten minutes and 43 seconds left, he really shouldn't be this nervous already, but then again he was going to meet his soulmate, which was clearly nothing to be completely chill about. Sweat beading on his forehead, he nervously turned around his shaky hand once more to check the countdown. Never would he have thought that his fate would lead him to the "welcome"-party held by the Shibusen for students like him, that soon would attend said school. This evening would be the last opportunity to find a partner, his last chance to get a place to stay at as well as an assurance that he indeed was going to go to this school at all. But the loner he is, with his weird looks, constant-scowl and snarky comments towards literally everyone, he hadn't really found anyone yet. At least noone who'd ever look past his facade, noone who'd ever even try to understand, let alone accept him. The counter on his wrist told him that there were still 9 Minutes and 57 seconds left. The uneasy feeling in his chest that had started ever since Wes had dropped him off here hadn't left at all and neither has the knot in his stomach. What would his soulmate be like? What would they look like? Were they nice? Harsh? Shy? Would they ask him questions? Recognize him as Wes' brother? The many questions circling in his head, echoing within his mind over and over again, made his nervosity even worse. His heart was pounding awfully fast and he had to take a deep breath to calm down at least a little bit. He really shouldn't be this nervous, it was going to be his soulmate after all, the meaning of it would be missing it's point if they weren't going to get along.  
Still, noone could know if life wasn't going to pull another painful prank on him like it had ever since he was born. They could be afraid of him, his looks, his behaviour. He by now knew very well how most people reacted to him when they first spoke to him. The majority of people who talked to him once never did ever again. Who would want to talk to a rudely acting genetical disaster like him anyways? As if albinoism and abnormally sharp teeth weren't enough to deal with already, he also just had to be a weapon as well. There would always exist people who were scared of the Idea that a human being could transform into a lethal weapon any time. And these people especially didn't want to talk to him if they thought of him as the creepy, arrogant and petty rich boy with too high standarts as well, even if all he ever did was standing in his famous brother's shadow for all eternity. It all made him seem either intimidating, too rude/weird/whatever to talk to or simply unreachable. And by now he got so used to be handled like this, judged and frowned upon literally everywhere he went, that it would no longer suprise him if there was one more of these people that just happened to be his soulmate. He was already used to this lonliness and the pressure that his parents put on him. He could handle another rejection. Or at least he thought he would. He wasn't quite sure. This was his last chance to exit this hellish cycle he was caught in at home. If this didn't get him out of the desastrous misery that was his life, his choices to escape were incredibly slim, if not nonexistant even. With a nearly inaudible sigh, he once more casted a glance onto his wrist. 6 minutes and 41 seconds left. Suddenly, though barely there, he felt a tug in his chest, as if he unconciously wanted to go to a very certain place he did not know of yet. His heart nearly skipped a beat when he saw where it was leading him to. He left the corner he'd been waiting in, away from the crowd, into a room that was nearly empty except for the massive, shiny black piano standing there. On any other occasion, he immediately would have left the room, he'd sworn to himself and to his family that he'd never play again, but the sleek ivory keys were too inviting, they nearly seemed to scream for him to play. Before he could think about it, his fingers were carefully sliding over some of the keys. _'Seems like it hadn't been played in quite some time'_ , he noted to himself as he saw the layer of dust on them flocking on his fingertips. _'I wonder_...' Before he could actually finish the thought, his fingers were already dancing lazily over the keys in a quiet, bittersweet melody. It had started as just a try to see if it was still working properly, but soon enough his fingers cought up on speed and sound as they roamed all over the keys, blasting, dancing, putting his emotions, his worries, his insecurities into the unsteady rythm of a dark melody, echoing from the walls as he engrossed himself into his music one last time. He was so focused on his fingers jumping from one set of keys to the next, that he completely lost sight of anything around him. He no longer worried about the counter on his wrist ticking down each second, nor did he ask himself countless questions about what his soulmate would be like anymore and thinking about not having a partner yet was unimportant all of a sudden. All that counted was the moment, the here and now. The lightweighted steps that were carefully approaching him in curiosity, slipped past his hearing. When he finally finished, he nearly jumped out of his skin when behind him someone started to clap excitedly. Sparkling eyes in the deepest green he'd ever seen met his eyes when he turned around. A rather petite girl, which seemed to be his age stood there, ash-blonde hair neatly tied up in two pigtails, smiled at him. He still hadn't fully processed the situation, but by the way she beamed at him, grinning admiringly, along with the applause she'd given him, she seemed to have liked it. Which caught him rather offguard, so far most feedback he received were either grim comments about what an amateur he was, that his pieces were too dark to be enjoyable, that he had talent, but not enough to make it anywhere with it and so on. This was probably the first person to actually like what he did. Sure, Wes had always tried to encourage him and support him in what he did, but the truth that he'd never be as good as him would always remain, even Wes knew that. For a fraction of a second, he just stared at the girl, before she bluntly tried to start a conversation with him. "Whoah! That sounded amazing! What's your name? I'm Maka." Maka then said with a hand stretched out towards him. He hesitantly took it, before shaking it very lightly. "I'm...Soul." He then murmured, still a little confused over the girl in front of him, before he noticed that he was still holding her hand and dropping it a bit awkwardly in an instant. "Soul huh? Interesting, I've never heard of someone with a name like that before." Her glance fell onto the tag on his chest and her green eyes widened a little and something like hope laid in them. "You're a weapon? What type?" He looked down at his tag before looking at hers and his hopes sparked up a bit when he read the word "Meister" written on it. "Uh..Scythe...I think. I haven't been able to completely transform yet, but I'm already working on that." He admitted, his voice a bit shakier than he'd actually wanted it to be. "YES! FINALLY! A SCYTHE!" She happily exclaimed as she threw her arms into the air, before noticing her own behaviour and quicker than he thought possible, calmed down. "Sorry. But I've been searching for a scythe-type weapon nearly all summer and I was actually already losing hope in ever finding one!" She then expanded her hand once more and was looking at him firmly, the shimmering hope in her green eyes even clearer to be seen than just moments before.  
"Wanna team up and be partners?"  
This was it, this was his chance. Someone was asking him to be their partner. Someone who liked what he played. Someone who wasn't afraid of talking to him, someone who seemed to be able to look behind his facade. His heart was racing, the nervosity in his stomach got quickly replaced by anticipation. He felt happy, relieved, he was able to start a new life, far away from his family, the pressure and loneliness. He found someone who'd free him from that.  
Without any regretful thoughts, he took her hand and flashed her a grin.  
"Sure, why not."  
He didn't even need to look at his wrist to know.  
It had counted down to 0.


End file.
